by Ben Hale
"Do you know the answer to your question?"
His tone was mild, but it didn't stem her anger. "You didn't have to do that!" she yelled. She sat up, rubbing her back.
"Do you know the answer?" he pressed.
She thought she did, but she waited until she was on her feet to say it. "Knowing the spell means I know what someone else can do."
"You are half correct," he said. "Should I demonstrate the other half?"
"No," she said hastily. "Give me a moment to think."
Small fires had begun to course up her arms, but she quelled them with a calming breath. She wondered how he would have responded if she'd tried to scorch him. Staring into his unflinching grey eyes she had a sneaking suspicion that she would have ended up on the ground regardless.
He was waiting, so she tried to think of another reason to learn a strength spell. She considered various theories until she settled on one that sounded plausible.
"Because jumping isn't the only thing you would use a strength spell for," she said, "And I can't give someone else gravity, but I can cast a strength spell on them."
He flashed a brief smile. "Correct, on both counts. Now, jump again."
She gathered herself and tried again. This time she had to ignore the throbbing in her back as she sought to collect more energy into her muscles. She was pleased to realize that her previous magic had remained in her legs, so it was a simple matter to add to it. After a full minute she jumped again, and managed to get about six feet off the ground. She landed in a crouch, and discovered that the landing was easier as well. Her magically enhanced form apparently provided auxiliary benefits.
The Swordsman nodded in satisfaction but before he could respond, she asked, "Why did you have to grab my throat like that?"
He regarded her with an odd expression for a moment. Then he said, "I believe that demonstration teaches best. On numerous occasions my instincts have saved my life, but my reflexes were honed in a ring similar to this one. Without them I would have been dead a long time ago."
She wanted to ask what he did, but didn't get the chance.
"You have learned enough of a strength spell," he said. "Release your magic from your legs before it begins to tire you. You will have to practice more on your own. Next we will review agility and vision charms. An agility spell is much like strength, but its power does not actually come from your muscles. It is more about balance, precision, and your nervous system working in perfect harmony."
He took two steps to the wall and ran straight up it. As his momentum slowed he jumped into a spinning flip that carried him back to the floor. He rebounded off it and leapt to the training circle railing. His feet barely touched it before he launched himself into an almost casual double front flip and landed on the two-inch railing on the opposite side.
He slid off it and caught the railing with one hand. Although the bar was only waist high, he swung himself under without touching the floor and twisted into a standing position at his former position. Tess’s eyes widened at the speed and grace to his movements. If the motion took any exertion he gave no sign.
"An agility spell enhances the harmony of your body with your environment. As such, it is a spell that heightens your nervous system more than your muscles. When done correctly, it will be like enchanting your entire body with muscle memory, and you will be able to move with fluidity and grace. Auren athletes call it the zone, but they merely feel a glimpse of what the true spell can do. The trick is duration. The stronger the spell, the longer it will have an effect on you.
"For the sake of time, I am not going to do more than demonstrate the agility spell," he said. "When you wish to practice it, use your gravity magic to keep yourself from falling. If you do that, you should be able to practice without injuring yourself too severely."
Tess would have liked to practice under his direction, but the Swordsman had already moved on. "Last is vision," he pointed to a sign at the opposite end of the chamber. It appeared newer than the other objects in the room, suggesting that he'd placed it there himself.
"A vision enhancement spell will allow you to see into the distance, as well as in the dark. This spell can take time to master; eyesight is something most people take for granted, and rarely consider. Just add your magic into your eyes, and will yourself to see the sign. When you can read it from where you stand, you are excused."
Turning on his heel, he strode toward the door.
"That's it?" Tess asked. "Aren't you going to teach me more?"
He paused. "I've taught you a year's worth of spells in an hour. When you master them, I will teach you more. There is no reason for me to sit around and hold your hand. You aren't a child."
"Wait," she said. "I thought you were going to teach me how to use a sword." She gestured to the weapon on his back.
He burst into a laugh and caught the hilt that extended down past his right waist. Drawing it in a fluid motion, he raised it to her. "Your body is the weapon, Tess. This is just a tool that makes it more deadly."
"But why do you carry one?" Tess asked. "Isn't it a bit . . . primitive?"
For the first time he hesitated. Then he shrugged, and said, "It goes with my occupation."
"And what is that?" she asked, surprised at the darkness that had risen in his eyes.
"Mage assassin," he said simply.
She blinked, but could not bring herself to look away. His response sent a chill through her body. "Why would Hawk have someone like you train me?"
"How should I know?" he replied. "I am trained to kill, quietly and in cold blood when necessary. It's not a skill I thought appropriate for an oracle—but Hawk saved my life once, so I help when he asks. Besides . . . it usually gives me a chance to kill some old enemies."
"The Harbingers," she stated as her intuition triggered.
A mask of anger swept across his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. "I would even stoop to guard duty to kill them."
Her stomach tightened, and she gestured to herself. "Me?"
His gaze locked on hers for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"How many times have you saved my life?"
He shook his head. "What's more important is how many Harbingers I've killed while protecting you."
She saw the rest in his eyes, and her chill sank deeper into her tissues. She steeled herself and asked, "Would you have killed me if paid enough?"
"No," he said. "I don't kill innocents." The tension in her chest eased, until he added, "But I'm not the only assassin in our world."
"What should I do if they come after me?" she asked.
"Run," he said simply.
"You don't think I could defeat them?"
His gaze held her in check. "If I could kill you . . . then others could as well. Watch your back, Oracle."
The door closed behind him, leaving her to her fear.
Chapter 17: The General
Tess collapsed into her chair at dinner and stared at her plate. Rox had to nudge her twice before she looked at her.
"What's up?" Rox asked.
"I feel like I'm sprinting a marathon," she said. "How can teachers give so much work in just six weeks? I've had to shape light into a replica of a rock, shape a rock into a flower, and try to get a mouse to eat a flower—and that's just today. That doesn't even include my homework from air and sound. If air wasn't so easy I'd be dead."
Derek's expression was sympathetic. "There's a reason they don't allow students to take so many power classes. How's your history of magic class going?"
"Ah," Tess groaned. "I have a paper due next Tuesday. When am I supposed to get that done?"
"At least the mid-quad break starts tomorrow—and the new Melee begins," Derek said. "You can take a break from your studies."
"So I can use more magic? I can hardly fly anymore." She snagged another bite and rose to her feet. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow," she said, her voice muffled with the food.
"Good luck with your paper," Derek called as s
he walked away.
Tess threw him a grateful look before discarding her plate through the blue cleaning cauldrons. Then she trudged out of the meal hall and up to her room. She didn't even realize until halfway up the stairs that she was walking rather than flying. For once regretting the height of her cabin, she stepped into the air and flew up to her room.
Once inside she lay on her bed and released a long sigh. How could she possibly accomplish everything being placed on her? Her seven classes were enough to steal her joy of magic—and they didn't include everything Hawk had asked of her.
She stretched her shoulders, trying to alleviate the perpetual tightness that had sunk into them. Her weariness seeped into her eyes and refused to budge. Promising herself she would study in twenty minutes, she succumbed.
She dreamed of flying in the Dark, alone and afraid. Whispers clawed her ears, seeking to overpower her. Despair filled her frame, and she fought to rise. With all her courage she rose above the black shroud, but her heart plummeted when she realized the truth.
The Dark stretched to the horizon in every direction, unbroken by mountain, cloud, or light. She was thirty thousand feet off the ground but the Dark had no end. Even without seeing it, she knew the Dark had accomplished Ducalik's promise. It had consumed everything on Earth. Desperately she sought for some sign of survivors, but there was none—or at least nothing that could be helped.
Creatures prowled the Dark, their souls gone, their minds controlled. Human or animal, they were all beasts, wild and deadly. They congregated far beneath Tess, hungry for her blood. Instinctively Tess knew that they sought her because she was the last human alive. Her friends were gone—dead or Darkened.
Abruptly cords of black streaked out of the Dark and caught her legs. She screamed and sought to break free, but her own despair was too strong. More bands of Darkness coiled around her like muscled arms, pulling her in, whispering the truth . . .
She had failed.
And the world had ended.
—Tess jerked awake to find her vision clouded. Panic joined her fear, until she realized it was just tears. Fighting for breath, she struggled to control the tide of emotions. She wiped at her eyes and was ashamed to find her hand was shaking.
Was it a vision? Was that her future? She shuddered, and rose from her sweat soaked bed. Stepping into the shower, she let the steam and heat fight her dream until her fear had settled into a cold resolve. She refused to accept that future.
She looked to herself first, but knew that there was nothing more she could add. Her schedule and effort was already beyond anything she'd ever done. She cast about for other ideas and thought of her friends. As if the scene had zoomed out, she caught a glimpse of the entire school, and realized that their victory wouldn't hinge on her or Hawk.
It would happen because enough people stood together, and the only way to accomplish that was to prepare them. She breathed a slow breath as she realized that was exactly what Hawk must have understood, and was the reason for the Melee. She issued a grunt of frustration. She'd intended on skipping it to get more work done, but after her dream she didn't think that would be best.
She dressed quickly and flew down for breakfast. Dawn had yet to break, but there were already a couple of students in the meal hall. She nodded to them as she ate, but avoided contact. The moment she was done she flew to the stadium. If she arrived early she could do some of the practicum from her other classes, and not fall too far behind.
The cool air blew past her, causing her to shiver. As she passed the earth school a flicker caught her eye. Curious, she turned toward the mountain and alighted on its summit. A small circle of stone stood with a statue in its center. Three walls of rock cupped the figure, making it all but invisible from the outside.
The statue stood tall and stared through the gap she'd entered from. He was carved out of white stone, but his armor was fashioned of black rock. It had obviously been added after, and yet it fused together as if it had been cut from a single source.
His hands and forearms were encased in massive stone fists, and his feet were layered in stone boots. His torso bore a breastplate of interlocking pieces, and the rest of his body bore angular sections of stone to protect it. Only his head and face remained free of protection. Oddly, his features were the most intimidating.
The statue was ancient, that much was clear. The stone had been weathered by time, and sections of one leg had crumbled away. Tess circled the statue, but paused when she found the plaque. She read the inscription aloud.
"General Telorik, Warrior, Creator, Father."
She sat on the small bench ensconced in the side of the alcove, enjoying the moment of solitude. For a while she just sat and thought about everything on her shoulders, wondering. Twenty minutes later the silence was broken as Shorn flew into the space.
"Tess?" he exclaimed in surprise. "What brought you to the General?"
"I spotted him on my way to the stadium," she replied as she stood. "Do you know who he was?"
Shorn shook his head. "No one does. A couple of my friends in the earth school said there are a number of rumors, but none of them have any basis in truth."
"Then what brought you?"
He shrugged. "It's one of the few places in the school that you can truly be alone. It's only easily accessible by flyers, but most flyers don't know about him anyway." He jerked a thumb at the statue.
"Solitude isn't common at Tryton's," she said sourly.
"I know," he said with a sigh, and leaned against the wall.
The catch to his tone was slight, prompting her to ask, "Is something wrong?"
He hesitated, and then said, "I guess I just feel . . . anxious. I can't explain why." He pushed off the wall and stepped to the gap in the wall. Leaning on it, he looked out over the school grounds. "And I don't think I'm the only one that feels it."
She joined him, and looked down on the crowd of students walking to the stadium. From their vantage point, Tess could see that they walked slower than normal, and their conversation was subdued.
"What with the missile attack, the aurens killing mages, and the attack on you, it just feels . . . chaotic. Do you know what's happening?" Shorn asked. "I mean . . . you're the oracle, right?"
It was the first time that she could recall him openly calling her by her title, and she didn't know how to respond. She met his gaze, and wondered if she could trust him. He'd been Drake's second in command with the last quad's Tempest team—and Drake had turned out to be an integral member of the Harbingers. She hadn't seen Drake since he'd helped Ranson open the portal.
"Have you heard from Drake?" Tess asked.
"What does he have to do with this?"
"A lot," Tess said.
"So you do know what's happening?"
Tess looked away. "Yes," she said quietly. "I think I do."
Shorn was quiet for a while. "But you can't tell me?"
"I don't know if I should," Tess replied.
"Oh . . .," he said, and the hurt in his voice was evident.
"It's not because I don't trust you," Tess said. "I just don't want to start a rumor. Enough people have died already."
"People are dying?" There was alarm in his tone now. "But the Magtherian said only a few mages have been killed by aurens."
She sighed and turned back to him. "That's a fraction of the truth."
"Do you know this because you are the oracle? Or because—"
"No . . . yes . . . maybe," she said. "It's not because of that." She fell silent, struggling with what to tell him, and how. "I know because of what I have witnessed," she said. "And what I feel."
"What do you feel?"
"That the world is headed for a threat it can't withstand," she said.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She stared into his eyes, wondering if she should speak the truth. But hadn't Hawk said she needed to prepare the other students? The first step in doing so was trusting them, wasn't it? Recalling a conversation with Hawk a
bout her magic, she blinked into her magesight and looked at Shorn.
She recognized purple and a faded light blue immediately, identifying his magical talents. Upon further inspection she saw a coiling green that she knew represented turmoil, as well as an orange that she'd learned meant a temper. Most importantly to her, there was a thread of white throughout him, indicating honor.
"The end," she finally said, and decided she should trust him, at least a little.
He frowned. "The end of what?"
"Of light," Tess said simply.
Shorn opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it. Then he looked away, his expression tightening. Tess hoped that indicated he understood what she meant. She swallowed when she recalled her dream, and knew that was the best way to describe what was coming. But saying it out loud made it feel worse.
It made it more real.
Chapter 18: The Melee
Tess dived behind a tree, narrowly evading the barrage of energy orbs. Gasping for breath, she peeked at the advancing students. She nodded in satisfaction, and pushed off the ground an inch before flying into the fogged region of the Melee.
The floor of the arena was gone, and in its place five distinct regions had been crafted. The lake dominated the center. As if it had been plucked from a mountain, its waters wear clear and full of fish. Tall pine trees grew on its bank, and lilies floated on the still surface. Surrounding the lake region were four distinct climates.
One corner was all rock. Piles of reddish stone culminated in a miniature plateau that was the highest point in the arena. Columns of craggy rocks surrounded it like sentinels guarding a camp.
Adjacent to the rocks was a forest. Extending out from the trees at the lake, the pine trees gave way to oak and poplar. Thick underbrush filled the forest, making it difficult to see into its darkened interior. Animals and small rodents moved through it, and were marked by their blinking eyes or swift movement.
Opposite the forest was tundra. Occasional trees dotted its surface, their branches dusted with white. Real snow materialized fifty feet up and drifted down to join the snow already on the ground. The last corner was obscured by fog, but the tops of trees were just visible.
